The Telling Of His Story
by Total Percabeth
Summary: Ponyboy said that he could tell people, starting with his English teacher. Now's his chance to tell more people. Or the one where Ponyboy reads out 'The Outsiders' to his school. (Oct 18, 2019 edit: I just noticed that S.E. Hinton's words aren't bolded in the second chapter and I am so sorry for that. The original writing in chapter 3 isn't bolding either :/ )
1. Chapter 1

When I showed up to class the Monday after passing the paper in, Mr. Syme called me to his desk again after class.

"Is it okay, sir?" I ask nervously.

"Okay? Ponyboy, this is brilliant!" He exclaimed.

"Um, thank you."

"Now, the reason I called you back wasn't to discuss your grade, well, not completely," he paused. "At the end, you said that someone should tell their side of the story, and that you decided you could, starting with me. If you were wanting, I was thinking that maybe I could help you tell more people."

I frowned. "How?"

"Perhaps, if you are willing of course, that you could read your theme out to the school?" He asked hesitantly, before hurrying on. "By no means do I want to pressure you into thinking you had to do it with a group that large, if at all, but-" I cut him off.

"Yes."

"…What?"

"I'll do it," I said with certainty, a smile growing on my face.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I want to do this. Thank you so much Mr. Syme, this means so much to me."

"Of course, I'll speak to the principal later, hopefully today."

It was set.

A few weeks later I was pacing nervously back stage in the school's auditorium. In a few minutes, I will be walking out onstage. In a few minutes, I will be telling my story to the school. I will be telling my story to all the greasers and Socs I know, and all of the ones I don't. I will be telling it to my teachers, and to news reporters. I will be telling it to Darry and Soda, who came in for the day. I will be telling it to Two-Bit, and Steve. Cherry, Macia, and Randy.

All those people are here to listen to me speak, and it's making me nervous.

I take a few deep breaths to try and calm down some, and then, Mr. Syme is introducing me.

"Hello, and welcome to everyone here today. It is with great pride and pleasure that I introduce you to one of the many students we have here in our school. Ponyboy Curtis is one of my students and recently he wrote his story for his term theme. In his paper, he said he wanted to tell his story to people, starting with myself, and when I spoke to him afterwards, he said that he would like to read it out loud to you. Please give it up for Ponyboy!"

I could hear the applause, but at a distance. When I got to the microphone, I finally looked out into the swarm of people. My stomach twisted as my eyes darted around before locking in on Soda, sitting in the back of the room next to Darry, and the other boys from our gang. He gave an encouraging smile and thumbs up and I couldn't help but smile back as I relaxed.

"Hello," I cleared my throat. "Thank you all so much for coming today, it means a lot to me. I would like to say a few things before I get started. Um, please keep in mind that over the course of the story I'm telling you today, my opinions and views on a lot of things has changed so much, so please don't get mad, and I'm sorry if I hurt you. I've learned that I've been wrong with a lot of things, and don't think the way I did before. I wrote it down, and I'm telling you anyways, because it was the truth. It was what I thought about things, and I want- no, _need_ to be honest with you. All of you. So without further adue, here now is _The Outsiders_."

 **When I stepped out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house, I had only two things on my mind: Paul Newman and a ride home. I was wishing I looked like Paul Newman- he looks tough and I don't-**

Darry thought about that for a moment. Pony did look tough. Sure, maybe not quite as much with the blond so much as his darker hair, but still.

 **But I guess my own looks aren't so bad. I have light-brown, almost-red hair and greenish gray eyes. I wish they were more gray, because I hate most guys that have green eyes, but I have to be content with what I have.**

Soda frowned. Did Ponyboy really not like the way he looked? Pony was a good looking guy, and Soda had no idea how he didn't see that.

 **My hair is longer than a lot of boys wear theirs, squared off in the back and long at the front and sides, but I am a greaser and most of my neighborhood rarely bothers to get a haircut. Besides, I look better with long hair.**

Two-Bit had to nod at that, the longer hair did suit Ponyboy better, but he supposed that could be that his hair had never been as short as it was when he came back from Windrixville, and Two-Bit had simply been used to the longer look. It had grown out some over the past few weeks, on it's way back to being his tuff hair that he and the other members of the gang knew so well.

 **I had a long walk home and no company, but I usually lone it anyways, for no reason except that I like to watch movies undisturbed so I can get in them and live them with the actors. When I see a movie with someone it's kind of uncomfortable, like having someone read your book over your shoulder. I'm different that way. I mean, my second-oldest brother, Soda, who is sixteen-going-on-seventeen, never cracks a book at all, and my oldest brother, Darrel, who we call Darry, works too long and hard to be interested in a story or drawing a picture, so I'm not like them. And nobody in our gang digs movies and books the way I do. For a while there, I'd thought I was the only person in the world that did. So I loned it.**

Multiple members of their gang frowned, never realizing how much Ponyboy felt like an outcast, that he was different just because he likes movies and books.

 **Soda tries to understand, at least, which is more than Darry does. But then, Soda is different from anybody; he understands everything, almost. Like he's never hollering at me all the time the way Darry is, or treating me as if I was six instead of fourteen. I love Soda more than I've ever loved anyone, even Mom and Dad.**

Sodapop's eyes nearly bulged out of his head and his jaw dropped. Ponyboy loves _him_ more than _Mom and Dad_? He shook his head. He couldn't wrap his head around it, but the honesty in Pony's voice… that was real. Soda flushed as he looked down, slightly embarrassed, and felt a smile stretching across his face and a warmth spreading through his chest.

 **He's always happy-go-lucky and grinning, while Darry's hard and firm and rarely grins at all. But then, Darry's gone through a lot in his twenty years, grown up too fast. Sodapop'll never grow up at all. I don't know which way's the best. I'll find out one of these days.**

Darry frowned as he realized just what Ponyboy was referring to.

 **Anyways, I went on walking home, thinking about the movie, and then suddenly wishing I had some company. Greasers can't walk alone too much or they'll get jumped, or someone will come by and scream "Greaser!" at them, which doesn't make you feel too hot, if you know what I mean. We get jumped by the Socs.**

Quite a fair bit of the Scos in the crowd had the decency to look ashamed for their actions.

 **I'm not sure how you spell it, but it's the abbreviation for the socials, the jet set, the West-side rich kids. It's like the term "greaser,' which is used to class all is boys on the East Side.**

 **We're poorer than the Socs and the middle class. I reckon we're wilder, too. Not like the Socs, who jump greasers and wreck houses and throw beer blasts for kicks, and get editorials in the paper for being a public disgrace one day and an asset to society the next. Greasers are almost like hoods; we steal things and drive old souped-up cars and hold up gas stations and have a gang fight once in awhile.**

Some of the teachers, and other adults pursed their lips as they heard about what most of the student are up to outside of class. They had heard about some things in the newspapers, and could tell who were in the different 'classes' by how they dressed, and what cars they drove, but to be told so blatantly...

 **I don't mean I do things like that. Darry would kill me if I got into trouble with the police. Since Mom and Dad were killed in an auto wreck, the three of us get to stay- together only as long as we behave. So Soda and I stay out of trouble as much as we can, and we're careful not to get caught when we can't.**

Steve rolled his eyes, remembering all the crazy things the two brothers have gotten themselves into, and how many close calls he and Soda had.

 **I only mean that most greasers do things like that, just like we wear our hair long and dress in blue jeans and T-shirts, or leave our shirttails out and wear leather jackets and tennis shoes or boots. I'm not saying that either Socs or greasers are better; that's just the way things are.**

Most of the students, Socs and greasers alike, were somewhat surprised at that, before a realization dawned on them. The two groups were always fighting, but because they thought they themselves were better, or because they thought the other was better?

 **I could have waited to go to the movies until Darry or Sodapop got of work. They could've done with me, or driven me there, or walked along, although Soda can't sit still long enough to enjoy a movie and they bore Darry to death. Darry thinks his life is enough without inspecting other people's. Or I could have gotten one of the gang to come along, one of the four boys Darry and Soda and I have grown up with and consider family. We're almost as close as brothers; when you grow up in a tight-knit neighborhood like ours you get to know each other real well. If I had thought about it, I could have called Darry and he could've come by on his way home and picked me up, or Two-Bit Matthews- one of our gang- would have come to get me in his car if I had asked him, but sometimes I don't use my head. It drives my brother Darry nuts when I do stuff like that, 'cause I'm supposed to be smart; I make good grades and have a high IQ and everything, but I don't use my head. Besides, I like walking.**

It was good to hear that Pony _did_ think about that, though Darry supposed it was too late. Darry tried really hard to not shout at Ponyboy all the time for not using his head, and he thought that he was getting better.

 **I about decided I didn't like it so much, though, when I spotted that red Corvair trailing me. I was almost two blocks from home then, so I started walking a little faster. I had never been jumped, but I had seen Johnny after four Socs got hold of him, and it wasn't pretty. Johnny was scared of his own shadow after that. Johnny was sixteen then.**

Unbeknownst to Ponyboy, and, well, everyone in the room, Johnny's ghost was in the back of the room, standing next to Dally, the two of them beside Darry.

Johnny shivered as he remembered the beating. Dally gently placed his hand on Johnny's shoulder and Johnny reached up and gripped Dally's hand in his own.

 **I knew it wasn't any use though- the fast walking, I mean- even before the Corvair pulled up beside me and five Socs got out. I got pretty scared- I'm kind of small for fourteen even though I have a good build, and those guys were bigger than me. I automatically hitched my thumbs in my jeans and slouched, wondering if I could get away if I made a break for it. I remember Johnny- his face all cut up and bruised, and I remember how he had cried when we found him, half-conscious in the corner lot. Johnny had it awful rough at home- it took a lot to make him cry.**

Johnny tensed, silently wishing Pony would quit bringing it up. He sighed, knowing that by how much he mentioned it, he would probably go into more detail later, now that people are more curious about what happened.

 **I was sweating something fierce, although I was cold. I could feel my palms getting clammy and the perspiration running down my back. I get like that when I'm real scared. I glanced down for a pop bottle or a stick or something- Steve Randle, Soda's best buddy, had once held off four guys with a busted pop bottle- but there was nothing.**

Steve grinned. _You'd better believe it_ , he thought

 **So I stood there like a bump on a log while they surrounded me. I don't use my head. They walked around slowly, silently, smiling.**

The Socs that had jumped him shifted uncomfortably in their seats, remembering that day.

" **Hey, grease," one said in an over-friendly voice. "We're gonna do you a favor, greaser. We're gonna cut all that long greasy hair off."**

 **He had on a madras shirt. I can still see it. Blue madras. One of them laughed, then cussed me out in a low voice. I couldn't think of anything to say. There isn't a whole lot you can say while waiting to get mugged, so I kept my mouth shut.**

Two-Bit grinned. It was sort of surprising, but not at the same time, that Ponyboy would think something like that while being surrounded by Socs.

" **Need a haircut, greaser?" The medium sized blond pulled a knife out of his back pocket and flipped the blade open.**

 **I finally thought of something to say. "No." I was backing up, away from that knife. Of course I backed right into one. They had me down in a second. They had my arms and legs pinned down and one of them was sitting on my chest with his knees on my elbows, and if you don't think that hurts, you're crazy. I could smell English Leather shaving lotion and stale tobacco, and I wondered foolishly if I would suffocate before they did anything. I was scared so bad I was wishing I would. I fought to get loose, and almost did for a second before they tightened up on me and the one on my chest slugged me a couple of times. So I lay still, swearing at them between gasps. A blade was held against my throat.**

Soda was wringing his hands with worry, so far on the edge of his seat that he was about to fall off. He didn't like hearing the details of Ponyboy, his baby brother, getting jumped. To his left, Darry was as tense and taught as a wire about to snap, and to his right, Steve was glaring, snarling at the Socs. On Steve's other side, Two-Bit's jaw and fists were clenched.

" **How'd you like that haircut to begin just below the chin?"**

 **It occurred to me then that they could kill me. I went wild. I started screaming for Soda, Darry, anyone. Someone put his hand over my mouth, and I bit it as hard as I could, tasting the blood running through my teeth. I heard a muttered curse and got slugged again, and they were stuffing a handkerchief in my mouth. One of them kept saying, "Shut him up, for Pete's sake, shut him up!"**

 **Then there were shouts and the pounding of feet, and the Socs jumped up and left me lying there, gasping. I lay there and wondered what in the world was happening- people were jumping over me and running by me and I was too dazed to figure it out. Then someone had me under the armpits and was hauling me to my feet. It was Darry.**

" **Are you all right, Ponyboy?"**

 **He was shaking me and I wished he'd stop. I was dizzy enough anyway. I could tell it was Darry though- partly because of the voice and partly because Darry's always rough with me without meaning to be.**

" **I'm okay. Quit shaking me, Darry, I'm okay."**

 **He stopped instantly. "I'm sorry."**

 **He wasn't really. Darry isn't ever sorry for anything he does. It seems funny to me that he should look just like my father and act exactly the opposite from him. My father was only forty when he dies and he looked twenty-five and a lot of people thought Darry and Dad were brothers instead of father and son. But they only looked alike- my father was never rough with anyone without meaning to be.**

Darry flinched time and time again, as Ponyboy stated just how he had felt about Darry, and it hurt. He knew Pony understood him better now, but to know that he had driven Pony to think that Darry didn't care about him at all, it hurt and made him feel like crying.

 **Darry's six-feet-two, and broad shouldered and muscular. He has dark-brown hair that kicks out in the front and a slight cowlick in the back- just like Dad's- but Darry's eyes are his own. He's got eyes that are like two pieces of pale blue-green ice. They've got a determined set to them like the rest of him. He looks older than twenty- tough, cool, and smart. He would be real handsome if his eyes weren't so cold. He doesn't understand anything that is not plain hard fact. But he uses his head.**

 **I sat down again, rubbing my cheek where I'd been slugged the most.**

 **Darry jammed his fists in his pockets. "They didn't hurt you too bad, did they?"**

 **They did. I was smarting and aching and my chest was sore and I was so nervous my hands were shaking and I wanted to start bawling, but you just don't say that to Darry.**

Darry wished Ponyboy would go to him for things like that. Darry knew the Soda is the person Piny turns to most, but he couldn't help longing for Pony to confide in him with some things. Like when he was hurt bad.

" **I'm okay."**

 **Sodapop came loping back. By that time I had figured that all the noise I had heard was the gang coming to rescue dropped down beside me, examining my head.**

" **You got cut up a little, huh, Ponyboy?"**

 **I only looked at him blankly. "I did?"**

 **He pulled out a handkerchief, wet the end with his tongue, and pressed it gently against the side of my head. "You're bleedin' like a stuck pig."**

" **I am?"**

" **Look!" He showed me the handkerchief, reddened as if by magic. "Did they pull a blade on you?"**

 **I remembered the voice: "Need a haircut, greaser?" The blade must've slipped when he was trying to shut me up. "Yeah."**

 **Soda is handsomer than anyone else I know.**

Soda grinned proudly.

 **Not like Darry- Soda's movie-star kind of handsome, the kind that people stop on the street to watch go by. He's not as tall as Darry, and he's a little slimmer, but he has a finely drawn, sensitive face that somehow manages to be reckless and thoughtful at the same time. He's got dark-gold hair that he combs back- long and silky and straight- and in the summer the sun bleaches it to a shining wheat-gold. His eyes are dark brown- lively, dancing, recklessly laughing eyes that can be gentle and sympathetic one moment and blazing with anger the next. He has Dad's eyes, but Soda is one of a kind. He can get drunk in a drag race or dancing without ever getting near alcohol. In our neighborhood it's rare to find a kid who doesn't drink once in a while. But Soda never touches a drop- he doesn't need to. He gets drunk on just plain living. And he understands everybody.**

Soda had to try hard to keep from laughing out loud. He had never known just what Ponyboy thought of him, or how Pony would describe him. He thought that the way Pony described him, was fitting for Ponyboy, all dreamy and so attuned to his attention for details. It was similar to how Pony would talk about colours and sunsets and books and love stories, so passionate, it drew you in, whether you were completely interested in what he was talking about or not..

Steve chuckled and elbowed Soda in the side, and when Soda looked at him, he pointed out at the students, and Soda had to fight down the urge to laugh even harder. Most of the girls were swooning, and although Soda couldn't see their faces, their body language gave them away. They were fanning themselves, giggling, hiding their faces, and leaning on each other for support.

 **He looks at me more closely. I look away hurriedly, because, if you want to know the truth, I was starting to bawl. I knew I was as white as I felt and was shaking like a leaf.**

 **Soda just put his hand on my shoulder. "Easy, Ponyboy. They ain't gonna hurt you no more."**

" **I know," I said, but the ground began to blur and I felt hot tears running down my cheeks. I brushed them away impatiently. "I'm just a little spooked, that's all." I drew in a quivering breath and quit crying. You just don't cry infront of Darry. Not unless you're hurt like Johnny had been that day we found him in the vacant lot. Compared to Johnny, I wasn't hurt at all.**

Johnny thought that Ponyboy really shouldn't be comparing himself to Johnny, especially about something like this. Just because Johnny had been worse off, that doesn't mean the ponyboy can't, or shouldn't feel hurt or pain. Pony had still been scared, still been hurt, had a knife drawn, and he shouldn't dismiss it because he thought someone hurt more than him.

 **Soda rubbed my hair. "You're an okay kid, Pony."**

 **I had to grin at him- Soda can make you grin no matter what. I guess it's because he's always grinning so much himself. "You're crazy, Soda. Out of your mind."**

 **Darry looked as if he'd like to knock our heads together. "You're both nuts."**

 **Soda merely cocked an eyebrow at him, a trick he'd picked up from Two-Bit. "It seems to run in this family."**

 **Darry stared at him for a second, then cracked a grin. Sodapop isn't afraid of him like everyone else and enjoys teasing him. I'd just as soon tease a full-grown grizzly; but for some reason, Darry seems to like being teased by Soda.**

Even just picturing Soda grin made Darry feel a grin coming along. He looped his arm around Soda's shoulders, and when Soda grinned up at him, Darry couldn't hold back the grin anymore.

 **Our gang had chased the Socs to their car and heaved rocks at them. They came running towards us now- four lean, hard guys. They were all as tough as nails and looked it. I had grown up with them, and they accepted me, even though I was younger, because I was Darry and Soda's kid brother and I kept my mouth shut good.**

 **Steve Randle was seventeen, tall and lean, with thick greasy hair he kept combed in complicated swirls. He was cocky, smart, and Soda's best buddy since grade school. Steve's specialty was cars. He could lift a hubcap quicker and more quietly than anyone in the neighborhood, but he also knew cars upside-down and backward, and he could drive anything on wheels.**

Steve grinned, proud of himself.

 **He and Soda worked at the same gas station- Steve part time and Soda full time- and their station got more customers than any other in town. Whether that was because Steve was so good with cars or because Soda attracted girls like honey draws flies, I couldn't tell you.**

Steve snorted and elbowed Soda lightly in the side, holding his hand out for a fist bump. Soda chuckled and knocked their fists together.

 **I liked Steve only because he was Soda's best friend. He didn't like me- he thought I was a tagalong and a kid; Soda always took me with him when they went places if they weren't taking girls, and that bugged Steve. It wasn't my fault; Soda always asked me, I didn't ask him. Soda doesn't think I'm a kid.**

Soda's brow was furrowed. "What?" It didn't bother Steve, did it? Soda decided to brush it off, he had been wrong about Darry, too.

 **Two-Bit Matthews was the oldest of the gang and the wisecracker of the bunch. He was about six feet tall, stocky in build, and very proud of his long rusty-coloured sideburns. He had gray eyes and a wide grin, and he couldn't stop making funny remarks to save his life. You couldn't shut up that guy;**

Two-Bit had to laugh at that.

 **He always had to get his two-bits worth in. Hence his name. Even the teachers forgot his real name was Keith, and we hardly remembered he had one. Life was one big joke to Two-Bit. He was famous for shoplifting and his black-handled switchblade (which he couldn't have acquired without his first talent), and he was always smarting off to the cops. He really couldn't help it. Everything he said was so irresistibly funny that he just had to let the police in on it to brighten up their dull lives. (That's the way he explained it to me.) He liked fights, blonds, and for some unfathomable reason, school. He was still a junior at eighteen and a half and he never learned anything. He just went for kicks. I liked him real well because he kept us laughing at ourselves as well as other things. He reminded me of Will Rogers- maybe it was the grin.**

Two-Bit loved how Ponyboy summed up his personality, it fit him perfectly.

 **If I had to pick the real character of the gang, it would be Dallas Winston- Dally. I used to like to draw his picture when he was in a dangerous mood, for then I could get his personality down in a few lines.**

Pony drew pictures? Of _him_? And in a dangerous mood? He supposed that would be when he's mad. Dally had never known that his anger had that side to it, one that would be drawn out, inspired for pictures.

 **He had an elfish face, high cheekbones and a pointed chin, small, sharp animal teeth, and ears of a lynx. His hair was almost white it was so blond, and he didn't like haircuts, or hair oil either, so it fell over his forehead in wisps and kicked out in the back in tufts and curled behind his ears and along the nape of his neck. His eyes were blue, blazing ice, cold with a hatred of the whole world. Dally had spent three years on the wild side of New York and had been arrested at the age of ten. He was tougher than the rest of us- tougher, colder, meaner. The shade of difference that separates a greaser from a hood wasn't present in Dally. He was as wild as the boys in the downtown outfits, like Tim Shepard's gang.**

 **In New York, Dally blew off steam in gang fights, but here, organized gangs are rarities- there are just small bunches of friends who stick together, and the warfare is between the social classes. A rumble, when it's called, is usually born of a grudge fight, and the opponents just happen to bring their friends along. Oh, there are a few named gangs around, like the River Kings and the Tiber Street Tigers, but here in the Southwest there's no gang rivalry. So Dally, even though he could get into a good fight sometimes, had no specific thing to hate. No rival gang. Only Scos. And you can't win against them no matter how hard you try, because they've all the breaks, and even whipping them isn't going to change that fact. Maybe that's why Dallas was so bitter.**

 **He had quite a reputation. They have a file on him at the police station. He had been arrested, he got drunk, he rode in rodeos, lied, cheated, stole, rolled drunks, jumped small kids- he did everything. I didn't like him, but he was smart and you had to respect him.**

"Damn right."

 **Johnny Cade was the last and least. If you can picture a little dark puppy that has been kicked too many times and is lost in a crowd of strangers, you'll have Johnny. He was He was the youngest, next to me, smaller than the rest, with a slight build. He has big black eyes in a dark tanned face; his hair was jet-black and heavily greased and combed to the side, but it was so long that it fell in shaggy bangs across his forehead. He had a nervous, suspicious look in his eyes, and that beating he got from the Scos didn't help matters. He was the gang's pet, everyone's kid brother. His father was always beating him up, and his mother ignored him, except when she was hacked off at something, and then you could hear her yelling at him clear down at our house. I think he hated that worse than getting whipped.**

Johnny stared at the ground as he wrapped his arms around himself. He felt tears forming, and he blinked them away quickly. Quietly, Dally draped an arm over his shoulders, providing some comfort.

 **He would have run away a million times if we hadn't been there. If it hadn't been for the gang, Johnny would never have known what love and affection are.**

 **I wiped my eyes hurriedly. "Didya catch 'em?"**

" **Nup. They got away this time, the dirty… " Two-Bit went on cheerfully, calling the Socs every name he could think of or make up.**

" **The kid's okay?"**

" **I'm okay." I tried to think of something to say. I'm usually pretty quiet around people, even the gang. I changed the subject. "I didn't know you were out of the cooler yet, Dally."**

" **Good behaviour. Got off early." Dallas lit a cigarette and handed it to Johnny. Everyone sat down for a smoke and relax. A smoke always lessens the tension. The cigarette was calming me down. Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow. "Nice-lookin' bruise you got there, kid."**

 **I touched my cheek gingerly. "Really?"**

 **Two-Bit nodded sagely. "Nice cut, too. Makes you look tough."**

 _ **Tough**_ **and** _ **tuff**_ **are two different words,** _ **Tough**_ **is the same as rough;** _ **tuff**_ **means cool, sharp- like a tuff-looking Mustang or a tuff record. In our neighborhood, both are compliments.**

 **Steve flicked his ashes at me. "What were you doin', walkin' by your lonesome?" Leave it to good old Steve to bring up something like that.**

" **I was coming home from the movies. I didn't think… "**

" **You don't ever think," Darry broke in, "not at home or anywhere it counts. You must think at school, with all those good grades you bring home, and you've always got your nose in a book, but do you ever use your head for common sense? No sirree, bub.. And if you did have to go by yourself, you should have carried a blade."**

 **I just stared at the hole in the toe of my tennis shoe. Me and Darry just didn't dig each other. I never could please him. He would've hollered at me for carrying a blade if I had carried one. If I brought home** _ **B**_ ' **s, he wanted** _ **A**_ ' **s, and if I got** _ **A**_ ' **s, he wanted to make sure they stayed** _ **A**_ ' **s. If I was playing football, I should be in studying, and if I was reading, I should be out playing football. He never hollered at Sodapop- not even when Soda dropped out of school or got tickets for speeding. He just hollered at me.**

Two-Bit hadn't realized how much Darry hollered at Ponyboy when the gang wasn't around and he began to see why Pony didn't believe him and Soda when they tried to get him to see that Darry cared. Two-Bit didn't like it, but he could see where Pony was coming from.

 **Soda was glaring at him. "Leave my kid brother alone, you hear? It ain't his fault he likes to go to movies, and it ain't his fault the Socs like to jump us, and if he had been carrying a blade it would have been a good excuse to cut him to ribbons."**

 **Soda always takes up for me.**

 **Darry said impatiently, "When I want my kid brother to tell me what to do with my other kid brother, I'll ask you- kid brother."**

The overuse of 'kid brother' got some chuckles from the audience.

 **But he laid off me. He always does when Sodapop tells him to. Most of the time.**

" **Next time get one of us to go with you, Ponyboy," Two-Bit said. "Any of us will."**

" **Speakin' of movies"- Dally yawned, flipping away his cigarette butt- "I'm walkin' over to the Nightly Double tomorrow night. Anybody want to come and hunt some action?"**

 **Steve shook his head. "Me and Soda are pickin' up Evie and Sandy for the game."**

 **He didn't need to look at me the way he did right then. I wasn't going to ask if I could come. I'd never tell Soda, because he really likes Steve a lot, but sometimes I can't stand Steve Randle. I mean it, sometimes I hate him.**

Soda turned his head sharply to Steve, sitting next to him. "Steve?" Soda had doubted it the first time Ponyboy mentioned it, but considering he said it twice, about Steve not liking Pony, well, that really surprised Soda. Steve stared ahead and Ponyboy went on before Steve could answer.

 **Darry sighed, just like I knew he would. Darry never had time to do anything anymore. "I'm working tomorrow night."**

 **Dally looked at the rest of us. "How about y'all? Two-Bit? Jonnycake, you and Ponyboy wanta come?"**

" **Me and Johnny'll come," I said. I knew Johnny wouldn't open his mouth unless he was forced to. "Okay, Darry?"**

" **Yeaah, since it ain't a school night." Darry was real good at letting me go places on the weekends. On school nights I could hardly leave the house.**

" **I was planning on getting boozed up tomorrow night," Two-Bit said. "If I don't, I'll walk over and find y'all."**

 **Steve was looking at Dally's hand. His ring, which he had rolled a drunk senior to get, was back on his finger. "You break up with Sylvia again?"**

" **Yeah, and this time it's for good. That little broad was two-timin' me again while I was in jail."**

 **I thought of Sylvia and Evie and Sandy and Two-Bit's many blondes. They were the only kind of girls that would look at us, I thought. Tough, loud girls who wore too much eye makeup and giggled and swore too much. I liked Soda's girl Sandy just fine, though. Her hair was natural blond and her laugh was soft like her china-blue eyes. She didn't have a real good home or anything and was our kind- greaser- but she was a real nice girl.**

Soda sighed sadly at the thought of Sandy.

 **Still, I wondered what other girls were like. The girls who were bright eyed and had their dresses at decent length and acted as if they'd like to spit on us if given a chance. Some were afraid of us, and remembering Dallas Winston, I didn't blame them. But most looked at us like we were dirt- gave us the same kind of look that the Socs did when they came by in their Mustangs and Corvairs and yelled "Grease!" at us. I wondered about them. The girls, I mean… Did they cry when their boys got arrested, like Evie did when Steve got hauled in, or did they run out on them the way Sylvia did Dallas? But maybe their boys didn't get arrested or busted up in rodeos.**

 **I was still thinking about it while I was doing my homework that night. I had to read** _ **Great Expectations**_ **for English, and that kid Pip, he reminded me of us- the way he felt marked lousy because he wasn't a gentleman or anything, and the way that girl kept looking down on him. That happened to me once. One time in biology I had to dissect a worm, and the razor wouldn't cut, so I used my switchblade. The minute I flicked it out- I forgot what I was doing or I would never have done it- this girl right beside me kind of gasped, and said, "They are right. You are a hood." That didn't make me feel so hot. There were a lot of Scos in that class- I get put into A classes because I'm supposed to be smart- and most of them thought it was pretty funny. I didn't, though. She was a cute girl. She looked real good in yellow.**

The girl in question blushed, remembering that day. She hadn't meant to say it, it just slipped out, and the look on his face afterwards made her feel guilty.

 **We deserve a lot of our trouble, I thought. Dallas deserves everything he gets, and should get worse, if you want the truth. And Two-Bit- he doesn't really want or need half the things he swipes from stores. He just thinks it's fun to swipe everything that isn't nailed down. I can understand why Sodapop and Steve get into drag races and fights so much, though- both of them have too much energy, too much feeling, with no was to blow it off.**

" **Rub harder, Soda," I heard Darry mumbling. "You're gonna put me to sleep."**

 **I looked through the door Sodapop was giving Darry a back-rub. Darry is always pulling muscles; he roofs houses and he's always trying to carry two bundles of roofing up the ladder. I knew Soda would put him to sleep, because Soda can put about anyone out when he sets his head to it. He thought Darry worked too hard anyway. I did, too.**

 **Darry didn't deserve to work like an old man when he was only twenty. He had been a real popular guy in school; he was captain of the football team and he had been voted Boy of the Year. But we just didn't have the money for him to go to college, even with the athletic scholarship he won. And now he didn't have time between jobs to even think about anything anymore, except work out at gyms and go skiing with some old friends of his sometimes.**

Darry thought of the days when he had been wishing, desperately hoping to make it to college, and the day he decided once and for all that he wasn't going to go for Ponyboy to have the chance. He didn't regret his decision, knowing that it was the right one.

 **I rubbed my cheek where it had turned purple. I had looked in the mirror, and it did make me look tough. But Darry had made me put a Band-Aid on the cut.**

 **I remembered how awful Johnny had looked when he got beaten up. I had just as much right to use the streets as the Scos did, and Johnny had never hurt them Why did the Scos hate us so much? We left them alone. I nearly went to sleep over my homework trying to figure it out.**

 **Sodapop, who had jumped in bed by this time, yelled sleepily for me to turn off the light and get into bed. When I finished the chapter I was on, I did.**

Some girls got a little envious feeling in their gut, that Ponyboy got to spend every night in the same bed as Sodapop Curtis.

 **Lying beside Soda, staring at the wall, I kept remembering the faces of the Scos as they surrounded me, that blue madras shirt the blond was wearing, and I could still hear a thick voice: "Need a haircut, greaser?" I shivered.**

The Socs who had been wearing the blue madras shirt winced. He hadn't realized the effect he had on the kid.

" **You cold, Ponyboy?"**

" **A little," I lied. Soda threw one arm across my neck. He mumbled something drowsily. "Listen, kiddo, when Darry hollers at you… he doesn't mean nothin'. He's just got more worries than someone his age ought to. Don't take him serious… you dig, Pony. Don't let him bug you. He's really proud of you 'cause you're so brainy. It's just because you're the baby- I mean, he loves you a lot. Savy?"**

" **Sure," I said, trying for Soda's sake to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.**

" **Soda?"**

" **Yeah?"**

" **How come you dropped out?" I never have gotten over that. I could hardly stand it when he left school.**

"' **Cause I'm dumb. The only thing I was passing anyway were auto mechanics and gym."**

" **You're not dumb."**

" **Yeah, I am. Shut up and I'll tell you something. Don't tell Darry, though."**

" **Okay."**

" **I think I'm gonna marry Sandy. After she gets out of school and I get a better job and everything. I might wait until you get out of school, though. So I can still help Darry with the bills and stuff."**

" **Tuff enough. Wit till I get out, though, so you can keep Darry off my back."**

" **Don't be like that, kid. I told you he don't mean half of what he says… "**

" **You in love with Sandy? What's it like?"**

" **Hhhmmm." He sighs happily. "It's real nice."**

Both Steve and Darry put a comforting hand on Soda's arm, and Soda was grateful.

 **In a moment his breathing was light and regular. I turned my head to look at him and in the moonlight he looked like some Greek god come to earth. I wondered how he could stand being so handsome.**

Soda snorted out a quiet laugh, not really succeeding in hiding it.

 **Then I sighed. I didn't quite get what he meant about Darry. Darry thought I was just another mouth to feed and someone to holler at. Darry love me?**

Darry looked down at his hands, ashamed. He glanced up at Soda when he felt a comforting squeeze. Soda gave him a small, reassuring smile. Darry knew he and Ponyboy were okay now, but to hear how Pony used to think Darry thought about him… it broke his heart.

 **I thought of those hard, pale eyes. Soda was wrong for once, I thought. Darry doesn't love anyone or anything, except maybe Soda. I didn't hardly think of him as being human.**

Darry flinched.

 **I don't care, I lied to myself, I don't care about him either. Soda's enough, and I'd have him until I got out of school. I don't care about Darry. But I was still lying and I knew it. I lie to myself all the time. But I never believe me.**


	2. Chapter 2

Dally was waiting for Johnny and me under the street light at the corner of Pickett and Sutton, and since we got there early, we had time to go over to the drugstore in the shopping center and goof around. We bought Cokes and blew the straws at the waitress, and walked around eyeing things that were lying out in the open until the manager got wise to us and suggested we leave. He was too late, though; Dally walked out with two packages of Kools under his jacket.

Dally smirked with pride when he saw Two-Bit grin.

Then we went across the street and down Sutton a little way to The Dingo. There are lots of drive-ins in town- the Socs go to The Way Out and to Rusty's, and the greasers go to The Dingo and to Jay's. The Dingo is a pretty rough hangout; there's always a fight going on there and once a girl got shot. We walked around talking to all the greasers and hoods we knew, leaning in car windows or hopping into back seats, and getting in on who was running away,

Darry winced when Pony mentioned people running away.

and who was in jail, and who was going with who, and who could whip who, and who stole what and when and why. We knew about everybody there. There was a pretty good fight while we were there between a big twenty-three-year-old greaser and a Mexican hitchhiker. We left when the switch blades came out, because the cops would be coming soon and nobody in his right mind wants to be around when the fuzz show.

We crossed Sutton and cut around behind Spencer's Special, the discount house, and chased two junior-high kids across a field for a few minutes; by then it was dark enough to sneak in over the back fence of the Nightly Double drive-in movie. It was the biggest in town, and showed two movies every night, and on weekends four- you could say you were going to the Nightly Double and have time to go all over town.

We all had the money to get in- it only cost a quarter if you're not in a car- but Dally hated to do anything the legal way. He liked to shown that he didn't care whether there was a law or not. He went around trying to break laws.

The principal, who was in the back of the room with a few other teachers, frowned. He supposed he should tell the cops or someone that kids were sneaking into the drive-in, but then again, how much would it really accomplish? Teenagers always try to break laws, and the cops are always watching for them, but they can never actually stop the kids. Probably only catching half after they commit the crimes. Ponyboy even said that his friend stole two packages of Kools.

We went to the row of seats in front of the concession stand to sit down. Nobody else was there except for two girls who were sitting down front. Dally eyed them cooly, then walked down the aisle and sat right behind them. I had a sick feeling that Dally was up to his usual tricks, and I was right. He started talking, loud enough for the two girls to hear. He started out bad and got worse. Dallas could talk awful dirty if he wanted to and I guess he wanted to then. I felt my ears get hot. Two-Bit or Steve or even Soda would have gone right along with him, just to see if they could embarrass the girls, but that kind of kicks just doesn't appeal to me. I sat there, struck dumb, and Johnny left hastily to get a Coke.

I wouldn't have felt so embarrassed if they had been greasy girls- I might have even helped old Dallas. But those girls weren't our kind. They were tuff-looking girl- dressed sharp and really good-looking. They looked about sixteen or seventeen. One had short dark hair, and the other had long red hair. The redhead was getting mad, or scared. She sat up straight and she was chewing hard on her gum. The other one pretended not to hear Dally. Dally was getting impatient. He put his feet up on the back of the redhead's chair, winked at me, and beat his own record of saying something dirty. She turned around and gave him a cool stare.

"Take your feet off my chair and shut your trap."

Boy she was good-looking.

Cherry flushed. She'd had a lot of boys flirt with her over the past few years, in school, when she goes to the movies, to the store… but to know that Ponyboy thought she was good-looking, it was somehow different.

I'd seen her before; she was a cheerleader at our school. I'd always thought she was stuck-up.

Cherry frowned. She didn't know that's what he thought of her, but she supposed it made some sense because she didn't talk to him- or any greasers- at school. Or ever before that night.

Dally merely looked at her and kept his feet where they were. "Who's gonna make me?"

The other one turned around and watched us. "That's the greaser that jockeys for the Slash J sometimes," she said, as if we couldn't hear her.

I had heard the same tone a million times; "Greaser… greaser… greaser." Oh yeah, I had heard that tone before too many times. What are they doing at a drive-in with no car? I thought, and Dally said, "I know you two. I've seen you around rodeos."

"It's a shame you can't ride bull half as good as you can talk it," the redhead said cooly and turned back around.

Two-Bit grinned slyly, amused by the girl's sass, and nudged Steve with his elbow, who looked over and snorted at Two-Bit's expression.

That didn't bother Dally in the least. "You two barrel race, huh?"

You'd better leave us alone," the redhead said in a biting voice, "or I'll call the cops."

"Oh, my, my,"- Dally looked bored- "you've got me scared to death. You ought to see my recorded sometime, baby." He grinned slyly. "Guess what I've been in for?"

Dally frowned. After dying and becoming ghosts- which was weird in itself- and not needing sleep anymore, he and Johnny had a lot of time to talk. He wondered why he had been proud of his record. Johnny- bless his soul- had talked some sense into Dally. A bit too late, though.

"Please leave us alone," she said. "Why don't you be nice and leave us alone?"

Dally grinned roguishly. "I'm never nice. Wanna Coke?"

"Thats a big contradictory, is it not?" Johnny whispered to Dally, who let out a loud laugh in surprise. Since, y'know, Johnny had been speaking up more and getting sassier. It could've been because now there weren't a bunch of strangers around to make Johnny nervous. No strangers who were able to hear them, anyways.

She was mad by then. "I wouldn't drink it if I was starving in the desert. Get lost, hood!"

Dally merely shrugged and strolled off.

The girl looked at me. I was half-scared of her.

Cherry raised an eyebrow. She hadn't realized she scared Ponyboy.

I'm half-scared of all nice girls, especially Socs. "Are you going to start in on us?"

I shook my head, wide-eyed. "No."

Suddenly she smiled. Gosh, she was pretty. "You don't look the type. What's your name?"

I wished she hadn't asked me that. I hate to tell people my name for the first time. "Ponyboy Curtis."

Darry frowned and heard Soda whisper "What?" Pony didn't like his name?

Then I waited for the "You're kidding!" or "That's your real name?" or one of the other remarks I usually get. Ponyboy's my real name and personally I like it.

Oh. Okay. He hoped this girl didn't say one of those things his kids brother apparently hated to hear.

The redhead just smiled. "That's an original and lovely name."

"My dad was an original person," I said. "I've got a brother named Sodapop, and it says so on his birth certificate."

"My name's Sherri, but I'm called Cherry because of my hair. Cherry Valance."

"I know," I said. "You're a cheerleader. We go to the same school."

"You don't look old enough to be going to high school," the dark-haired girl said.

"I'm not. I got put up a year in grade school."

Cherry was looking at me. "What's a nice smart kid like you running around with trash like that for?"

I felt myself stiffen. "I'm a grease, same as Dally. He's my buddy."

"I'm sorry, Ponyboy," she said softly. Then she said briskly, "Your brother Sodapop, does he work at a gasoline station? A DX, I think?"

"Yeah."

"Man, your brother is one doll. I might've guessed you were brothers- you look alike."

I grinned with pride- I don't think I look one bit like Soda, but it's not everyday I hear Socs telling me they think my brother is a doll.

Soda's shoulder shook as he tried to keep his laughter silent. Steve shoved his shoulder with his own, smirking as he whispered, "Ladies man, is what I keep saying that you are. A ladies man." Soda shoved him back and said, "Shut up."

"Didn't he used to ride in rodeos? Saddle bronc?"

"Yeah. Dad made him quit after he tore a ligament, though. We still hang around rodeos a lot. I've seen you two barrel race. You're good."

"Thanks," Cherry said, and the other girl, who was named Marcia, said, "How come we don't see your brother at school? He's not any older than sixteen or seventeen, is he?"

I winced inside. I've told you I can't stand it that Soda dropped out. "He's a dropout," I said roughly. "Dropout" made me think of some poor dumb-looking hoodlum wandering the streets breaking out street lights- it didn't suit my happy-go-lucky brother at all. It fitted Dally perfectly, but you could hardly say it about Soda.

Soda hadn't noticed that his dropping out was such a big deal to Pony. He wished Pony would accept it- he had.

Johnny came back then and sat down beside me. He looked around for Dally, then managed a shy "Hi" to the girls and tried to watch the movie. He was nervous, though. Johnny was always nervous around strangers. Cherry looked at him, sizing him up the way she had me. Then she smiled softly, and I knew she had him sized up right.

Dally came striding back with an armful of Cokes. He handed one to each of the girls and sat down beside Cherry. "This might cool you off."

She gave him an incredulous look; and then she threw her Coke in his face. "That might cool you off, greaser. After you wash your mouth and learn to talk and act decent, I might cool off too."

Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow, impressed with Cherry's spunk.

Dally wiped the Coke off his face with his sleeve and smiled dangerously. If I had been Cherry I would have beat it out of there. I knew that smile.

"Fiery, huh? Well, that's just the way I like 'em." He started to put his arm around her, but Johnny reached out and stopped him.

"Leave her alone, Dally."

The gang was staring at Pony with wide eyes. Did they hear him right? Did Johnny really stand up to Dally?

"Huh?" Dally was taken off guard. He stared at Johnny in disbelief. Johnny couldn't say "Boo" to a goose. Johnny gulped and got a little pale, but he said, "You heard me. Leave her alone."

Dallas scowled for a second. If it had been me, or Two-Bit, or Soda or Steve, or anyone but Johnny, Dally would have flattened him without a moment's hesitation. You just didn't tell Dally Winston what to do. One time, in a dime store, a guy told him to move over at the candy counter. Dally had turned around and belted him so hard it knocked a tooth loose. A complete stranger, too. But Johnny was the gang's pet, and Dally just couldn't hit him. He was Dally's pet, too. Dally got up and stalked off, his fists jammed in his pockets and a frown on his face. He didn't come back.

Two-Bit let out a long, low whistle, still impressed with their Johnny.

Cherry sighed in relief. "Thanks. He had me scared to death."

Johnny managed an admiring grin. "You sure didn't show it. Nobody talks to Dally like that."

She smiled. "From what I saw, you do."

Johnny's ears got red. I was still staring at him. It had taken more than neve for him to say what he'd said to Dally- Johnny worshiped the ground Dallas walked on, and I had never heard talk back to anyone, much less his hero.

Marcia grinned at us. She was a little smaller than Cherry. She was cute, but that Cherry Valance was a real looker.

Marcia rolled her eyes. She wished people would quit comparing her to Cherry. Yes, she knew that Cherry was the better-looking one between the two, but did everyone have to mention it?

"Y'all sit up here with us. You can protect us."

Johnny and I looked at each other. He grinned suddenly, raising his eyebrows so that they disappeared under his bangs. Would we ever have something to tell the boys! his eyes said plainly. We had picked up two girls and classy ones at that. Not any greasy broad for us, but real Socs. Soda would flip when I told him.

Soda cocked his head, brows furrowed. He didn't remember Pony mentioning this to him. Pony told him everything, especially when it came to girls. That's when he realized with a start that the next time he saw his brother it was two in the morning just before Pony ran away.

"Okay," I said nonchalantly, "might as well."

I sat between them, and Johnny sat next to Cherry.

"How old are y'all?" Marcia asked.

"Fourteen," I said.

"Sixteen," said Johnny.

"That's funny," Marcia said, "I thought you were both…"

"Sixteen," Cherry finished for her.

I was grateful. Johnny looked fourteen and he knew it and it bugged him something awful.

Johnny grinned. "How come y'all ain't scared of us like you were Dally?"

Cherry sighed. "You two are too sweet to scare anyone. First of all, you didn't join in Dallas's dirty talk, and you made him leave us alone. And when we asked you to sit up here with us, you didn't act like it was an invitation to make out for the night. Besides that, I've heard about Dallas Winston, and he looked as hard as nails and twice as tough. And you two don't look mean."

"Sure," I said tiredly, "we're young and innocent."

"No," Cherry said slowly, looking at me carefully, "not innocent. You've seen too much to be innocent. Just not… dirty."

"Dally's okay," Johnny said defensively, and I nodded. You take up for your buddies, no matter what they do. When you're in a gang, you stick up for the members. If you don't stick up for them, stick together, make like a brothers, it isn't a gang any more. It's a pack. A snarling, distrustful, bickering pack like the Socs in their social clubs or the street gangs in New York or the wolves in the timber.

A few Socs shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

"He's tough, but he's a cool old guy."

"He'd leave you alone if he knew you," I said, and that was true. When Steve's cousin from Kansas came down, Dally was decent to her and watched his swearing. We all did around nice girls who were the cousinly type. I don't know how to explain it- we try to be nice to the girls we see once in a while, like cousins or the girls in class, but we still watch a nice girl go by on a street corner and say all kinds of lousy stuff about her. Don't ask me why, I don't know why.

Some girls in the audience murmured their disdain to their friends.

"Well," Marcia said with finality, "I'm glad he doesn't know us."

"I kind of admire him," Cherry said softly, so only I heard, and then we settled down to watch the movie.

Dally froze and slowly raised an eyebrow.

Oh, yeah, we found out why they were there without a car. They'd come with their boyfriends, but walked out on them when they found out the boys had brought some booze along. The boys had gotten angry and left.

Randy's stomach tightened. Maybe if they hadn't brought the booze, then maybe- just maybe- Bob would still be alive. If they hadn't brought it, the girls wouldn't have walked out on them. If they didn't walk out, they wouldn't have gotten picked up by those greasers. Ponyboy. If they didn't get picked up, then Bob wouldn't have convinced him to jump the kids. And if they didn't jump the kids… Randy knew that he had to stop thinking this way. It only made losing his best friend worse.

"I don't care if they did." Cherry sounded annoyed. "It's not my idea of a good time to sit in a drive-in and watch people get drunk."

You could tell by the way she said it that her idea of a good time was probably high-class, and probably expensive. They'd decided to stay and see the movie anyway. It was one of those beach-party movies with no plot and no acting but a lot of girls in bikinis and some swinging songs, so it was alright. We were all four sitting there in silence when suddenly a strong hand came down on Johnny's shoulder and another on mine and a deep voice said, "Okay, greasers, you've had it."

I almost jumped out of my skin. It was like someone leap out from behind a door and yell "Boo!" at you.

I looked fearfully over my shoulder and there was Two-Bit, grinning like a Chessy cat. "Glory, Two-Bit, scare us to death!" He was good at voice imitations and had sounded for all the world like a snarling Soc. Then I looked at Johnny. His eyes were shut and he was as white as a ghost. His breath was coming in smothered gasps. Two-Bit knew better than to scare Johnny like that. I guess he'd forgotten. He's kind of scatterbrained. Johnny opened his eyes and said weakly, "Hey, Two-Bit."

"Two-Bit," Steve and Soda glowered at the older boy.

"Sorry!"

From behind them, Johnny smiled. He was grateful of Steve and Soda's protectiveness of him, even when he was no longer around.

Two-Bit messed up his hair, "Sorry, kid," he said, "I forgot."

He climbed over the chair and plopped down beside Marcia. "Who's this, your great-aunts?"

"Great-grandmothers, twice removed," Cherry said smoothly.

I couldn't tell if Two-Bit was drunk or not. It's kind of hard with him- he acts boozed up sometimes even when he's sober. He cocked one eyebrow up and the other down, which he always does when something puzzles him, or bothers him, or when he feels like saying something smart. "Shoot, you're ninety-six if your a day."

"I'm a night," Marcia said brightly.

Two-Bit stared at her admiringly. "Brother, you're a sharp one. Where'd you two ever get to be picked up by a couple of greasy hoods like Pony and Johnny"

"We really picked them up," Marcia said. "We're really Arabian slave traders and we're thinking of shanghaiing them. They're worth ten camels apiece at least."

"Five," Two-Bit disagreed. "They don't talk Arabian, I don't somethin' in Arabian, Johnnycake."

"Aw, cut it out!" Johnny broke in. "Dally was bothering them and when he left they wanted us to sit with them to protect them. Against wisecracking greasers like you, probably."

"Nice, Johnny," Steve muttered out loud, even though he knew that Johnny couldn't hear him. Except that Johnny did hear him, and giggled when Steve continued on to say "but that wasn't Arabian." Two-Bit snorted.

Two-Bit grinned, because Johnny didn't usually get sassy like that. We thought we were doing good if we could get him to talk at all. Incidentally, we don't mind being called greaser by another greaser. It's kind of playful then.

"Hey, where is ol' Dally, anyways?"

"He went hunting some action- booze or dames or a fight. I hope he don't get jailed again. He just got out."

"He'll probably find the fight," Two-Bit stated cheerfully. "That's why I came over. Mr. Timothy Shepard and Co. are looking for whoever so kindly slashed their car's tires, and since Mr. Curly Shepard spotted Dallas doing it… well… Does Dally have a blade?"

"Not that I know of," I said. "I think he's got a piece of pipe, but he busted his blade this morning."

"Good. Tim'll fight fair if Dally don't pull a blade on him. Dally shouldn't have any trouble."

Cherry and Marcia were staring at us. "You don't believe in playing rough or anything, do you?"

"A fair fight isn't rough," Two-Bit said. "Blades are rough. So are chains and heaters and pool sticks and rumbles. Skin fighting isn't rough. It blows off steam better than anything. There's nothing wrong with throwing a few punches. Socs are rough. They gang up on one or two, or they rumble each other with their social clubs. Us greasers usually stick together, but when we do fight among ourselves, it's a fair fight between two. And Dally deserves whatever he gets, 'cause slashed tires ain't no joke when you've got to work to pay for them. He got spotted, too, and that's his fault. Our one rule, besides Stick together, is Don't get caught. He might get beat up, he might not. Either way there's not going to be any blood feud between our outfit and Shepard's. If we needed them tomorrow they'd show. If Tim beats Dally's head in, and then tomorrow asks us for help in a rumble, we'll show. Dally was getting kicks. He got caught. He pays up. No sweat."

"Yeah, boy," Cherry said sarcastically, "real simple."

"Sure," Marcia said, unconcerned. "If he gets killed or something, you just bury him. No sweat."

Steve and Soda snorted.

"You dig okay, baby." Two-Bit grinned and lit a cigarette. "Anyone want a weed?"

I looked at Two-Bit admiringly. He sure put things into words good. Maybe he was still a junior at eighteen and a half, and maybe his sideburns were too long, and maybe he did get boozed up too much, but he sure understood things.

Two-Bit grinned with pride at the kid's praise.

Cherry and Marcia shook their heads at his offering of cigarettes, but Johnny and I reached for one. Johnny's color was back and his breathing was regular, but his hand was shaking ever so slightly. A cigarette would steady it.

"Ponyboy, will you come with me to get some popcorn?" Cherry asked.

I jumped up. "Sure. Y'all want some?"

"I do," said Marcia. She was finishing the Coke Dally had given her. I realized then that Marcia and Cherry weren't alike. Cherry had said she wouldn't drink Dally's Coke if she was starving, and she meant it. It was the principle of the thing. But Marcia saw no reason to throw away a perfectly good, free Coke.

Marcia sighed at another comparison between her and Cherry.

"Me too," said Two-Bit. He flipped me a fifty-cent piece. "Get Johnny some, too. I'm buyin'," he added as Johnny started to reach into his jeans pocket.

We went to the concession stand and, as usual, there was a line a mile long, so we had to wait. Quite a few kids turned to look at us- you didn't see a kid greaser and a Socy cheerleader together often. Cherry didn't seem to notice.

"Your friend- the one with the sideburns- he's okay?"

"He ain't dangerous like Dallas if that's what you mean. He's okay."

She smiled and her eyes showed that her mind was on something else. "Johnny… he's been hurt bad sometime, hasn't he?" It was more of a statement than a question. "Hurt and scared."

Johnny had a feeling that Pony was going to tell the story of when he got jumped. He didn't really want everyone to know how he cried, but he supposed it didn't really matter now.

"It was the Socs," I said nervously, because there were plenty of Socs milling around and some of them were giving me funny looks like I shouldn't be with Cherry or something. And I don't like to talk about it either- Johnny getting beat up, I mean. But I started in, talking a little faster than I usually do because I don't like to think about it either.

While here one the stage, telling the story to everyone, I started speaking quicker. It has been another few months since the last time I told it, but I still didn't like to think about it. Now, I can't help but also think of the next time Johnny was jumped- the night in the park- and that fateful day in the hospital when Johnny… When Johnny…

It was almost four months ago. I had walked down to the DX station to get a bottle of pop and to see Steve and Soda, because they'll always buy me a couple of bottles and let me help with the cars. I don't like to go on weekends because then there is usually a bunch of girls down there flirting with Soda- all kinds of girls, Socs too. I don't care too much for girls yet. Soda says I'll grow into it. He did.

It was a warmish day with the sun shining bright, but it was getting chilly and dark by the time we started for home. We were walking because we had left Steve's car at the station. At the corner of our block there's a wide, open field where we like to play football and hang out, and it's often a site for rumbles and fist fights. We were passing it, kicking rocks down the street and finishing out last bottle of Pepsi, when Steve noticed something lying on the ground. He picked it up. It was Johnny's blue-jeans jacket- the only jacket he had.

"Looks like Johnny forgot his jacket," Steve said, slinging it over his shoulder to take it by Johnny's house. Suddenly he stopped and examined it more carefully. There was a stain the color of rust across the collar. He looked at the ground. There were some more stains on the grass. He looked up and across the field with a stricken expression on his face. I think we all heard the low moan and saw the dark motionless hump on the other side of the lot at the same time. Soda reached him first. Johnny was lying face down on the ground. Soda turned him over gently, and I nearly got sick. Someone had beaten him badly.

We were used to seeing Johnny banged up- his father clobbered him around a lot, and although it made us madder than heck,we couldn't do anything about it. But those beatings had been like this. Johnny's face was cut up and bruised and swollen, and there was a wide gash from his temple to his cheekbone. He would carry that scar all his life. His white T-shirt was splattered with blood. I just stood there, trembling with sudden cold. I thought he might be dead; surely nobody could be beaten like that and live. Steve closed his eyes for a second and muffled a groan as he dropped on his knees beside Soda.

Somehow the gang sensed what happened. Two-Bit was suddenly there beside me, and for once his comical grin was gone and his dancing gray eyes were stormy. Darry had seen us from our porch and ran towards us, suddenly skidding to a halt. Dally was there, too, swearing under his breath, and turning away with a sick expression on his face. I wondered about it vaguely. Dally had seen people killed on the streets of New York's West Side. Why did he look sick now?

"Johnny?" Soda lifted him up and held him tight against his shoulder. He gave the limp body a slight shake. "Hey, Johnnycake."

Johnny didn't open his eyes, but there came a soft question. "Soda?"

"Yeah, it's me," Sodapop said. "Don't talk. You're gonna be okay."

"There was a whole bunch of them," Johnny went on, swallowing, ignoring Soda's command, "A blue Mustang full… I got so scared…" He tried to swear, but suddenly started crying, fighting to control himself, then sobbing all the more because he couldn't. I had seen Johnny take whipping with a two-by-four from his old man and never let out whimper. That made it worse to see him break now. Soda just held him and pushed Johnny's hair back out of his eyes. "It's okay, Johnnycake, they're gone now. It's okay."

Finally, between sobs, Johnny managed to gasp out his story. He had been hunting our football to practice a few kicks when a blue Mustang had pulled up beside the lot. There were four Socs in it, They had caught him and one of them had a lot of rings on his hand- that's what had cut up Johnny so badly. It wasn't just that they had beaten him half to death- he could take that. They had scared him. They had threatened him with everything under the sun. Johnny was high-strung anyway, a nervous wreck from getting belted every time he turned around and from hearing his parents fight all the time. Living in those conditions might have turned someone else rebellious and bitter; it was killing Johnny. He had never been a coward. He was a good man in a rumble. He stuck up for the gang and kept his mouth shut good around cops. But after the night of the beating, Johnny was jumpier than ever. I didn't think he'd ever get over it. Johnny never walked by himself after that. And Johnny, who was the most law-abiding of us, now carried in his back pocket a six-inch switchblade. He'd use it, too, if he ever got jumped again. They had scared him that much. He would kill the next person who jumped him. Nobody was ever going to beat him like that again. Not over his dead body…

Johnny shivered at the memory and Dally draped an arm around his shoulders.

In a different part of the room Bob winced at the irony of the end of the story. He felt bad about beating the kid, he really did. He hadn't realized that when he beat the kid that day, he was sentencing his own life, that it was the same kid in the park that fateful night.

I had nearly forgotten that Cherry was listening to me. But when I came back to reality and looked at her, I was startled to find her as white as a sheet.

"All Socs aren't like that," she said. "You have to believe me, Ponyboy. Not all of us are like that."

"Sure," I said.

"That's like saying all you greasers are like Dallas Winston. I'll bet he's jumped a few people."

I digested that. It was true. Dally had jumped people. He had told us stories about muggings in New York that made the hair on my neck stand up. But not all of us were that bad.

Cherry no longer looked sick, only sad. "I'll bet you think Socs have it made. The rich kids, the West-side Socs. I'll tell you something, Ponyboy, and it may come as a surprise. We have troubles you've never even heard of. You want to know something?" She looked me straight in the eye. "Things are rough all over."

"I believe you," I said. "We'd better get back out there with the popcorn or Two-Bit'll think I ran off with his money."

Two-Bit's lips twitched in a half-smirk.

We went back and watched the movie through again. Marcia and Two-Bit were hitting it off fine. Both had the same scatterbrained sense of humor. But Cherry and Johnny and I just sat there, looking at the movie and not talking. I quit worrying about everything and thought about how nice it was to sit with a girl without having to listen to her swear or to beat her off with a club. I knew Johnny liked it, too. He didn't talk to girls much. Once, while Dallas was in reform school, Sylvia had started hanging on to Johnny and sweet-talking him and Steve got hold of her and told her if she tried any of her tricks with Johnny he'd personally beat the tar out of her. Then he gave Johnny a lecture on girls and how a sneaking little broad like Sylvia would get him into a lot of trouble. As a result, Johnny never spoke to girls much, but whether that was because he was scared of Steve or because he was shy, I couldn't tell you.

"He was scared of me?" Steve whispered to Soda.

"I don't know about scared, per say, but you weren't exactly the kindest you could've been about talking to him about girls."

"I'm never kind," Steve pointed out.

"Considering it was Johnny and a field he didn't have a lot of experience in, you could've been a bit more considerate."

Steve only 'hmm'ed in response.

I got the same lecture from Two-Bit after we'd picked up a couple of girls downtown one day. I thought it was funny, because girls are one subject even Darry thinks I use my head about. And it really had been funny, because Two-Bit was half-crocked when he gave me the lecture, and he told me some stories that about made me want to crawl under the floor or something. But he had been talking about girls like Sylvia and the girls he and Dally and the rest picked up at drive-ins and downtown; he never said anything about Socy girls. So I figured it was all right to be sitting there with them.

"Also, if Two-Bit is sitting right there with them, I'd say you're safe kid."

Soda elbowed Steve, though there was a hint of a smile on his face.

Even if they did have their own troubles. I really couldn't see what Socs would have to sweat about- good grades, good cars, good girls, madras and Mustangs and Corvairs- Man, I thought, if I had worries like that I'd consider myself lucky.

A lot of the Socs in the audience sat up straight and glared at the kid. He had no idea what they went through, what they feel.

I know better now.

Feeling better that the kid acknowledge that there's more to their problems than girls, money and cars, they settled back to listen to what else the kid had to say, and what changed his mind.


	3. Chapter 3

**After the movie was over it suddenly occurred to us that Cherry and Marcia didn't have a way to get home. Two-Bit gallantly offered to walk them home - the west side of town was only about twenty miles away -**

Some Socs in the audience raised an eyebrow at that. A greaser was ready to walk them home? Nothing good could come out of a twenty mile walk with only a greaser for company.

 **but they wanted to call their parents and have them come and get them. Two-Bit finally talked them into letting us drive them home in his car. It seemed funny to me that Socs - if these girls were any example - were just like us. They liked the Beatles and thought Elvis Presley was out, and we thought the Beatles were rank and that Elvis was tuff, but that seemed the only difference to me. Of course greasy girls would have acted a lot tougher, but there was a basic sameness. I thought maybe it was money that separated us.**

"Um, duh," a Soc said to his buddy next to him who snorted in amusement.

 **"No," Cherry said slowly when I said this. "It's not just money. Part of it is, but not all. You greasers have a different set of values. You're more emotional. We're sophisticated - cool to the point of not feeling anything. Nothing is real with us. You know, sometimes I'll catch myself talking to a girl-friend, and realize I don't mean half of what I'm saying. I don't really think a beer blast on the river bottom is super-cool, but I'll rave about one to a girl-friend just to be saying something." She smiled at me. "I never told anyone that. I think you're the first person I've ever really gotten through to."**

 _What on earth was Cherry talking about?_ Was the instinctive thought coming to their defence as the Socs listened to what she had apparently said to this kid. A few shifted uncomfortably in their seats as the realized they did the same while others felt relief that they weren't alone in their thinking.

 **She was coming through to me all right, probably because I was a greaser, and younger; she didn't have to keep her guard up with me.**

 **"Rat race is a perfect name for it," she said. "We're always going and going and going and never asking where. Did you ever hear of having more than you wanted? So that you couldn't want for anything else and then started looking for something else to want? It seems like we're always searching for something to satisfy us, and never finding it. Maybe if we could lose our cool we could."**

Lose their cool? Yeah right.

 **That was the truth. Socs were always behind a wall of aloofness, careful not to let their real selves show through. I had seen a social-club rumble once. The Socs even fought coldly and practically and impersonally.**

That got a few narrowed eyes. _Who was this kid to analyze and judge them and how they lived their lives_?

 **"That's why we're separated," I said. "It's not money, it's feeling - you don't feel anything and we feel too violently."**

 **"And" - she was trying to hide a smile - "that's probably why we take turns getting out names in the paper."**

 **Two-Bit and Marcia weren't even listening to us. They were engaged in some wild conversation that made no sense to anyone but themselves.**

Two-Bit grinned, remembering their conversation and how he hadn't had one like it with anyone else.

Even Marcia on the other side of the room let a small smile come across her face. He _was_ the first person who didn't have the stuck up Soc attitude and didn't judge her for sounding crazy.

 **I have quite a rep for being quiet, almost as quiet as Johnny. Two-Bit always said he wondered why Johnny and I were such good buddies. "You must make such interestin' conversation," he's say, cocking one eyebrow, "you keepin' your mouth shut and Johnny not sayin' anything." But Johnny and I understood each other without saying anything. Nobody but Soda could really get me talking. Till I met Cherry Valance.**

That got a few raised eyebrows.

 **I don't know why I could talk to her; maybe for the same reason she could talk to me. The first thing I knew I was telling her about Mickey Mouse, Soda's horse. I had never told anyone about Soda's horse. It was personal.**

Soda prayed that when Pony said that, it would mean that he _wouldn't_ continue on to tell the story, but it was just his luck that Pony went on.

 **Soda had this buckskin horse, only it wasn't his. It belonged to a guy who kept it at the stables where Soda used to work. Mickey Mouse was Soda's horse, though. The first day Soda saw him he said, "There's my horse," and I never doubted it. I was about ten then. Sodapop is horsecrazy. I mean it. He's always hanging around stables and rodeos, hopping on a horse every time he gets a chance. When I was ten I thought that Mickey Mouse and Soda looked alike and were alike. Mickey Mouse was a dark-gold buckskin, sassy and ornery, not much more than a colt. He'd come when Soda called him. He wouldn't come for anyone else. That horse loved Soda. He'd stand there and chew on Soda's sleeve or collar. Gosh, but Sodapop was crazy about that horse. He went down to see him every day. Mickey Mouse was a mean horse. He kicked other horses and was always getting into trouble. "I've got me a ornery pony," Soda'd tell him, rubbing his neck. "How come you're so mean, Mickey Mouse?" Mickey Mouse would just chew on his sleeve and sometimes nip him. But not hard. He may have belonged to another guy, but he was Soda's horse.**

Soda looked down at his lap, smiling softly with tears in his eyes as he remembered his horse. Darry put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly. Soda gave his brother a watery smile.

 **"Does Soda still have him?" Cherry asked.**

 **"He got sold," I said. "They came and got him one day and took him off. He was a real valuable horse. Pure quarter."**

 **She didn't say anything and I was glad. I couldn't tell her that Soda had bawled all night long after they came and got Mickey Mouse. I had cried, too, if you want to know the truth, because Soda never really wanted anything except a horse, and he'd lost his. Soda had been twelve then, going-on-thirteen. He never let on to Mom and Dad how he felt, though, because we never had enough money and usually we had a hard time making ends meet. When you're thirteen in our neighborhood you know the score. I kept saving my money for a year, thinking that someday I could buy Mickey Mouse back for Soda. You're not so smart at ten.**

Soda wiped at his eyes. He was touched that Pony had the idea to buy Mickey Mouse back, and to keep on it for around a year. He had no idea that his younger brother did all this without him noticing.

 **"You read a lot, don't you, Ponyboy?" Cherry asked.**

 **I was startled. "Yeah. Why?"**

 **She kind of shrugged. "I could just tell. I'll bet you watch sunsets, too." She was quiet for a minute after I nodded. "I used to watch them, too, before I got so busy…"**

 **I pictured that, or tried to. Maybe Cherry stood still and watched the sun set while she was supposed to be taking the garbage out. Stood there and watched and forgot everything else until her big brother screamed at her to hurry up. I shook my head. It seemed funny to me that the sunset she saw from her patio and the one I saw from the back steps was the same one. Maybe the two different worlds we lived in weren't so different. We saw the same sunset.**

There was a small young boy in the back of the room who felt like throwing up or crying. No, no he couldn't be just like them. They couldn't be like him. There was no way his tormentors could be anything like him. He couldn't help but be violently against the idea that Ponyboy and Cherry were saying.

 **Marcia suddenly gasped. "Cherry, look what's coming."**

 **We all looked and saw a blue Mustang coming down the street. Johnny made a small noise in his throat and when I looked at him he was white.**

Randy swore under his breath. He hadn't wanted to hurt the kid and he felt sick when he thought back to what Ponyboy had said how the other boy had reacted.

 **Marcia was shifting nervously. "What are we going to do?"**

 **Cherry bit a fingernail. "Stand here," she said. "There isn't much else we can do."**

 **"Who is it" Two-Bit asked. "The F.B.I.?"**

 **"No," Cherry said bleakly, "it's Randy and Bob."**

 **"And," Two-Bit added grimly, "a few other of the socially elite checkered-shirt set."**

 **"Your boyfriends?" Johnny's voice was steady, but standing as close to him as I was, I could see he was trembling. I wondered why - Johnny was a nervous wreck, but he never was that jumpy.**

 **Cherry started walking down the street. "Maybe they won't see us. Act natural."**

 **"Who's acting?" Two-Bit grinned. "I'm a natural normal."**

 **"Wish it was the other way around," I muttered, and Two-Bit said, "Don't get mouthy, Ponyboy."**

The Two-But in the audience could only roll his eyes and grin.

 **The Mustang passed us slowly and went right on by. Marcia sighed in relief. "That was close."**

 **Cherry turned to me. "Tell me about your oldest brother. You don't talk much about him."**

 **I tried to think of something to say about Darry, and shrugged. "What's to talk about? He's big and handsome and likes to play football."**

 **"I mean, what's he like? I feel like I know Soda from the way you talk about him; tell me about Darry." And when I was silent she urged me on. "Is he wild and reckless like Soda? Dreamy, like you?"**

 **My face got hot as I bit my lip. Darry… what was Darry like? "He's…" I start to say he was a good ol' guy but I couldn't. I burst out bitterly:**

Ponyboy started speaking quicker and quieter, not wanting to say in front of his school- and, more importantly, _Darry_ \- how he'd wrongly felt about his older brother. He had regretted the words as soon as he said them the first time and he wasn't itching to say them again.

 **"He's not like Sodapop at all and he sure ain't like me. He's hard as a rock and about as human. He's got eyes exactly like frozen ice. He thinks I'm a pain in the neck. He likes Soda - everybody likes Soda - but he can't stand me. I bet he wishes he could stick me in a home somewhere, and he'd do it, too, if Soda'd let him." (A/N: this is one of my least favourite parts of the book.)**

Darry's blood rushed cold at the anger and hate in Pony's words. He knew that he and his younger brother clashed a lot and he yelled and Pony yelled back, but… he never actually knew what Ponyboy thought of him. He never knew that Pony thought that, that he'd be willing to give his brother up like that.

Soda felt like crying. He hadn't realized that Pony had such a low self-esteem, that he thought that Darry didn't love him at all. Put him in a boys home? Darry would _never_ do that, and it hurts that Pony thought that Darry would like to.

Steve and Two-Bit sat next to the two brothers awkwardly, not knowing what to say or do to comfort them. They had tried telling Ponyboy that Darry loved him and they knew he never agreed, but still… It was worse than they thought. Darry didn't hate him and they knew that Ponyboy didn't believe them, but having to see Darry's reaction to Pony's admittance was so much worse.

 **Two-Bit and Johnny were staring at me now. "No…" Two-Bit said, dumbfounded. "No, Ponyboy, that ain't right… you got it wrong…"**

 **"Gee," Johnny said softly," I thought you and Darry and Soda got along real well…"**

 **"Well, we don't," I snapped, feeling silly. I knew my ears were red by the way they were burning, and I was thankful for the darkness. I felt stupid. Compared to Johnny's home, mine was heaven. At least Darry didn't get drunk and beat me up or run me out of the house, and I had Sodapop to talk things over with. That made me mad, I mean making a fool of myself in front of everyone. "An' you can shut your trap, Johnny Cade, 'cause we all know you ain't wanted at home, either. And you can't blame them."**

Several eyes widened in shock and a few gasps were heard throughout the room and Ponyboy felt tears sting his eyes. He was embarrassing himself in front of his school but he ploughed on.

Johnny, meanwhile, felt touched at how so many people reacted to how he was addressed, though he didn't like how tightly Dally was gripping his arm.

"Dally, I'm fine."

"That punk…" Dally's eyes were murderous.

"I'm fine," he pleaded. "Let it go, please? It's in the past; it doesn't matter."

 **Johnny's eyes went round and he winced as though I'd belted him.**

"It doesn't matter?" Dally's voice got colder at Johnny's initial reaction.

"No, it doesn't." A look from the older boy had him adding "anymore."

Dally was fuming. "If I could, I'd knock his teeth out. Right here, right now, on stage."

"Good thing you can't."

 **Two-Bit slapped me a good one across the side of the head, and hard.**

"Good."

Even though he didn't want Dally angry at Ponyboy, he felt a little spark of happiness inside him that Dally cared so much for him to have this violent of a reaction.

 **"Shut your mouth, kid. If you wasn't Soda's kid brother I'd beat the tar out of you.**

"You should have anyways. I would've."

 **You know better than to talk to Johnny like that."**

Soda frowned, not sure why Pony being _his_ brother held Two-Bit back. He was grateful that he didn't beat his kid brother, but wouldn't Two-Bit be more intimidated by Darry?

 **He put his hand on Johnny's shoulder. "He didn't mean it, Johnny."** **  
** **"I'm sorry," I said miserably. Johnny was my buddy. "I was just mad."** **  
** **"It's the truth," Johnny said with a bleak grin. "I don't care."**

" _What_?"

Johnny shrunk under Dally's glare.

"I'll kill 'im, I swear I will," Dally seethed.

 **"Shut up talkin' like that," Two-Bit said fiercely, messing up Johnny's hair. "We couldn't get along without you, so you can just shut up!"** **  
** **"It ain't fair!" I cried passionately. "It ain't fair that we have all the rough breaks!" I didn't know exactly what I meant, but I was thinking about Johnny's father being a drunk and his mother a selfish slob, and Two-Bit's mother being a barmaid to support him and his kid sister after their father ran out on them, and Dally- wild, cunning Dally- turning into a hoodlum because he'd die if he didn't, and Steve- his hatred for his father coming out in his soft, bitter voice and the violence of his temper. Sodapop... a dropout so he could get a job and keep me in school, and Darry, getting old before his time trying to run a family and hold on to two jobs and never having any fun- while the Socs had so much spare time and money that they jumped us and each other for kicks, had beer blasts and river-bottom parties because they didn't know what else to do. Things were rough all over, all right. All over the East Side. It just didn't seem right to me.**

The other boys in their gang shifted uneasily at the home troubles being projected out to the whole school.

The Socs in the room thought back to their own lives. Things weren't as great as it seemed- as the kid on stage was making them seem- and they didn't know how to feel when they heard how they were thought of. That was the image they worked so hard for, so why did it sound wrong to hear it from the kid?

 **"I know," Two-Bit said with a good-natured grin, "the chips are always down when it's our turn, but that's the way things are. Like it or lump it."** **  
** **Cherry and Marcia didn't say anything. I guess they didn't know what to say. We had forgotten they were there. Then the blue Mustang was coming down the street again, more slowly.** **  
** **"Well," Cherry said resignedly, "they've spotted us."** **  
** **The Mustang came to a halt beside us, and the two boys in the front seat got out. They were Socs all right. One had on a white shirt and a madras ski jacket, and the other a light yellow shirt and a wine-colored sweater. I looked at their clothes and realized for the first time that evening that all I had was a pair of jeans and Soda's old navy sweat shirt with the sleeves cut short. I swallowed. Two-Bit started to tuck in his shirttail, but stopped himself in time; he just flipped up the collar of his black leather jacket and lit a cigarette. The Socs didn't even seem to see us.**

 **"Cherry, Marcia, listen to us..." the handsome black-haired Soc with the dark sweater began.** **  
** **Johnny was breathing heavily and I noticed he was staring at the Soc's hand. He was wearing three heavy rings. I looked quickly at Johnny, an idea dawning on me. I remembered that it was a blue Mustang that had pulled up beside the vacant lot and that Johnny's face had been cut up by someone wearing rings…**

Randy looked down when he noticed the looks he was getting.

 **The Soc's voice broke into my thoughts: "... just because we got a little drunk last time..."** **  
** **Cherry looked mad. "A little? You call reeling and passing out in the streets 'a little'? Bob, I told you, I'm never going out with you while you're drinking, and I mean it. Too many things could happen while you're drunk. It's me or the booze."**

"Oohhhh," a few of the Socs called out as they hear how Mr. Tough-and-Perfect was getting worked over by his girlfriend. And in front of the Greasers, no less.

Bob glared at the Socs, despite knowing that they couldn't see him.

 **The other Soc, a tall guy with a semi-Beatle haircut, turned to Marcia. "Baby, you know we don't get drunk very often..." When she only gave him a cold stare he got angry. "And even if you are mad at us, that's no reason to go walking the streets with these bums."** **  
** **Two-Bit took a long drag on his cigarette, Johnny slouched and hooked his thumbs in his pockets, and I stiffened. We can look meaner than anything when we want to- looking tough comes in handy. Two-Bit put his elbow on Johnny's shoulder. "Who you callin' bums?"** **  
** **"Listen, greasers, we got four more of us in the back seat..."** **  
** **"Then pity the back seat," Two-Bit said to the sky.**

That got a few smiles from people, and even Randy had to admit that it was a good comeback. Well, he would if he and Bob weren't the one it was aimed at.

 **"If you're looking for a fight..."** **  
** **Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow, but it only made him look more cool. "You mean if I'm looking for a good jumping, you outnumber us, so you'll give it to us? Well..." He snatched up an empty bottle, busted off the end, and gave it to me, then reached in his back pocket and flipped out his switchblade. "Try it, pal."** **  
** **"No!" Cherry cried. "Stop it!" She looked at Bob. "We'll ride home with you. Just wait a minute."** **  
** **"Why?" Two-Bit demanded. "We ain't scared of them."** **  
** **Cherry shuddered. "I can't stand fights... I can't stand them..."** **  
** **I pulled her to one side. "I couldn't use this," I said, dropping the pop bottle. "I couldn't ever cut anyone..." I had to tell her that, because I'd seen her eyes when Two-Bit flicked out his switch.**

The few Socs who tried to jump the kid not too long ago would disagree. They saw how he held the bottle and knew he wouldn't have been afraid to use it then. What had happened between then and when he was talking to Cherry to change that?

 **"I know," she said quietly, "but we'd better go with them. Ponyboy... I mean... if I see you in the hall at school or someplace and don't say hi, well, it's not personal or anything, but..."** **  
** **"I know," I said.** **  
** **"We couldn't let our parents see us with you all. You're a nice boy and everything..."**

The Greasers in the audience weren't too fond to hear that a Soc couldn't even bother to say 'hi' to them they kept to their reputations so strongly.

Darry and Soda didn't like to hear either that a Soc would call their baby brother a nice boy but still ignore him. He deserved better than that.

 **"It's okay," I said, wishing I was dead and buried somewhere. Or at least that I had on a decent shirt.**

Steve huffed out a little chuckle at Pony's vain moment.

 **"We aren't in the same class. Just don't forget that some of us watch the sunset too."** **  
** **She looked at me quickly. "I could fall in love with Dallas Winston," she said. "I hope I never see him again, or I will."**

Dally's eyes widened and his jaw dropped in shock. She- she what?!

The whole room was buzzing with Cherry's supposed admission- Socs and Greasers and the Middle Class all talking to one another. _Cherry_? The sweet (Soc's opinions) / stuck-up (Greaser's opinions) Soc cheerleader had admitted to a _Greaser_ that she could fall in love with _Dally_? _Dallas Winston_? The tough Greaser that everyone was scared of?

Johnny ground his teeth.

 **She left me standing there with my mouth dropped open, and the blue Mustang vroomed off.**

 **We walked on home, mostly in silence. I wanted to ask Johnny if those were the same Socs that had beaten him up, but I didn't mention it. Johnny never talked about it and we never said anything.**

Johnny flinched at the sudden reminder and immediately Dally put his arm back around his shoulders, pulling the smaller boy into his side.

 **"Well, those were two good-lookin' girls if I ever saw any." Two-Bit yawned as we sat down on the curb at the vacant lot. He took a piece of paper out, of his pocket and tore it up.** **  
** **"What was that?"** **  
** **"Marcia's number. Probably a phony one, too. I must have been outa my mind to ask for it. I think I'm a little soused."**

Marcia pursed her lips. It wasn't a fake number. She had been wondering why he asked for it then never called. She was hoping to talk to him again. Well, in a way that didn't have her seeking him out and other people knowing about it. Even though they knew about it now. She _could_ play it off as a fake number to her Soc girl-friends and only Cherry would be any wiser.

 **So he had been drinking. Two-Bit was smart. He knew the score. "Y'all goin' home?" he asked.** **  
** **"Not right now," I said. I wanted to have another smoke and to watch the stars. I had to be in by twelve, but I thought I had plenty of time.**

Soda put a hand on Darry's arm.

 **"I don't know why I handed you that busted bottle," Two-Bit said, getting to his feet. "You'd never use it."** **  
** **"Maybe I would have," I said. "Where you headed?"** **  
** **"Gonna go play a little snooker and hunt up a poker game. Maybe get rip-roarin' drunk. I dunno. See y'all tomorrow."** **  
** **Johnny and I stretched out on our backs and looked at the stars. I was freezing- it was a cold night and all I had was that sweat shirt, but I could watch stars in sub-zero weather. I saw Johnny's cigarette glowing in the dark and wondered vaguely what it was like inside a burning ember…**

Johnny looked at the ground, wrapping his arms around his middle as he remembered the fire in the church.

 **"It was because we're greasers," Johnny said, and I knew he was talking about Cherry. "We could have hurt her reputation."**

 **"I reckon," I said, wondering if I ought to tell Johnny what she had said about Dallas.** **  
** **"Man, that was a tuff car. Mustangs are tuff."** **  
** **"Big time Socs, all right," I said, a nervous bitterness growing inside me. It wasn't fair for the Socs to have everything. We were as good as they were; it wasn't our fault we were greasers. I couldn't just take it or leave it, like Two-Bit, or ignore it and love life anyway, like Sodapop, or harden myself beyond caring, like Dally, or actually enjoy it, like Tim Shepard. I felt the tension growing inside of me and I knew something had to happen or I would explode.** **  
** **"I can't take much more." Johnny spoke my own feelings. "I'll kill myself or something."**

Dally's arm tightened around him and Johnny could see the wide-eyed hurt and grieving expressions on his friends' faces.

 **"Don't," I said, sitting up in alarm. "You can't kill yourself, Johnny."** **  
** **"Well, I won't. But I gotta do something. It seems like there's gotta be someplace without greasers or Socs, with just people. Plain ordinary people."** **  
** **"Out of the big towns," I said, lying back down. "In the country..."** **  
** **In the country... I loved the country. I wanted to be out of towns and away from excitement. I only wanted to lie on my back under a tree and read a book or draw a picture, and not worry about being jumped or carrying a blade or ending up married to some scatterbrained broad with no sense. The country would be like that, I thought dreamily. I would have a yeller cur dog, like I used to, and Sodapop could get Mickey Mouse back and ride in all the rodeos he wanted to, and Darry would lose that cold, hard look and be like he used to be, eight months ago, before Mom and Dad were killed. Since I was dreaming I brought Mom and Dad back to life... Mom could bake some more chocolate cakes and Dad would drive the pickup out early to feed the cattle. He would slap Darry on the back and tell him he was getting to be a man, a regular chip off the block, and they would be as close as they used to be. Maybe Johnny could come and live with us, and the gang could come out on weekends, and maybe Dallas would see that there was some good in the world after all, and Mom would talk to him and make him grin in spite of himself. "You've got quite a mom," Dally used to say. "She knows the score." She could talk to Dallas and kept him from getting into a lot of trouble. My mother was golden and beautiful…**

Steve put his hand on Soda's knee and squeezed to let his best friend know that he was there for him. He was always the one Soda came to when he was missing his parents and Steve hoped that never changed. The coming to him part, not the missing-them-so-much-Soda-feels-like-he's-going-to-throw-up-he's-crying-so-hard part.

 **"Ponyboy"- Johnny was shaking me- "Hey, Pony, wake up."**

 **I sat up, shivering. The stars had moved. "Glory, what time is it?"**

Hearing Ponyboy's side of the story while he wasn't angry made Darry realize that it did make sense how Pony accidentally fell asleep in the lot.

 **"I don't know. I went to sleep, too, listening to you rattle on and on. You'd better get home. I think I'll stay all night out here." Johnny's parents didn't care if he came home or not.**

 **"Okay." I yawned. Gosh, but it was cold. "If you get cold or something come on over to our house."**

 **"Okay."**

 **I ran home, trembling at the thought of facing Darry. The porch light was on. Maybe they were asleep and I could sneak in, I thought. I peeked in the window. Sodapop was stretched out on the sofa, sound asleep, but Darry was in the armchair under the lamp, reading the newspaper. I gulped, and opened the door softly. Darry looked up from his paper. He was on his feet in a second. I stood there, chewing on my fingernail.**

 **"Where the heck have you been? Do you know what time it is?" He was madder than I'd seen him in a long time. I shook my head wordlessly.**

The whole room was in silence feeling the tension of the scene, urged on by the tremble in Ponyboy's voice.

 **"Well, it's two in the morning, kiddo. Another hour and I would have had the police out after you. Where were you, Ponyboy?"- his voice was rising- "Where in the almighty universe were you?"**

 **It sounded dumb, even to me, when I stammered, "I... I went to sleep in the lot…"**

 **"You what?" He was shouting, and Sodapop sat up and rubbed his eyes.** **  
** **"Hey, Ponyboy," he said sleepily, "where ya been?"** **  
** **"I didn't mean to." I pleaded with Darry. "I was talking to Johnny and we both dropped off..."** **  
** **"I reckon it never occurred to you that your brothers might be worrying their heads off and afraid to call the police because something like that could get you two thrown in a boys' home so quick it'd make your head spin. And you were asleep in the lot? Ponyboy, what on earth is the matter with you? Can't you use your head? You haven't even got a coat on."** **  
** **I felt hot tears of anger and frustration rising. "I said I didn't mean to..."** **  
** **"I didn't mean to!" Darry shouted, and I almost shook. "I didn't think! I forgot!** **  
** **That's all I hear out of you! Can't you think of anything?"** **  
** **"Darry..." Sodapop began, but Darry turned on him. "You keep your trap shut! I'm sick and tired of hearin' you stick up for him."** **  
** **He should never yell at Soda. Nobody should ever holler at my brother. I exploded. "You don't yell at him!" I shouted. Darry wheeled around and slapped me so hard that it knocked me against the door.**

Ponyboy's voice cracked on the word 'slapped' and Darry flinched as though he was the one who got hit.

 **Suddenly it was deathly quiet. We had all frozen. Nobody in my family had ever hit me. Nobody. Soda was wide-eyed. Darry looked at the palm of his hand where it had turned red and then looked back at me. His eyes were huge. "Ponyboy..."** **  
** **I turned and ran out the door and down the street as fast as I could. Darry screamed, "Pony, I didn't mean to!" but I was at the lot by then and pretended I couldn't hear. I was running away. It was plain to me that Darry didn't want me around. And I wouldn't stay if he did. He wasn't ever going to hit me again.**

Steve, Two-Bit, Johnny and Dally all went cold as they finally got a sense of what the Curtis brother fights were like when they weren't there.

 **"Johnny?" I called, and started when he rolled over and jumped up almost under my feet. "Come on, Johnny, we're running away."**

 **Johnny asked no questions. We ran for several blocks until we were out of breath. Then we walked. I was crying by then. I finally just sat down on the curb and cried, burying my face in my arms. Johnny sat down beside me, one hand on my shoulder. "Easy, Ponyboy," he said softly, "we'll be okay."**

 **I finally calmed down and wiped my eyes on my bare arm. My breath was coming in quivering sobs. "Gotta cigarette?"**

 **He handed me one and struck a match.**

 **"Johnny, I'm scared."**

Steve's hand tightened where is still lay resting on Soda's knee and Two-Bit looked at the two brothers sadly, wishing he could offer comfort but not knowing how while being a seat or two too far away.

 **'Well, don't be. You're scarin' me. What happened? I never seen you bawl like that."**

 **"I don't very often. It was Darry. He hit me. I don't know what happened, but I couldn't take him hollering at me and hitting me too. I don't know... sometimes we get along okay, then all of a sudden he blows up on me or else is naggin' at me all the time. He didn't use to be like that... we used to get along okay... before Mom and Dad died. Now he just can't stand me."**

 **"I think I like it better when the old man's hittin' me." Johnny sighed. "At least then I know he knows who I am. I walk in that house, and nobody says anything. I walk out, and nobody says anything. I stay away all night, and nobody notices. At least you got Soda. I ain't got nobody."**

Even though Soda didn't like the circumstances or the position it put Darry in, it did warm him that it was known that he could be counted on for being there for his baby brother.

 **"Shoot," I said, startled out of my misery, "you got the whole gang. Dally didn't slug you tonight 'cause you're the pet. I mean, golly, Johnny, you got the whole gang."**

 **"It ain't the same as having your own folks care about you," Johnny said simply. "It just ain't the same."**

 **I was beginning to relax and wonder if running away was such a great idea. I was sleepy and freezing to death and I wanted to be home in bed, safe and warm under the covers with Soda's arm across me. I decided I would go home and just not speak to Darry. It was my house as much as Darry's, and if he wanted to pretend I wasn't alive, that was just fine with me. He couldn't stop me from living in my own house.**

 **"Let's walk to the park and back. Then maybe I'll be cooled off enough to go home."**

 **"Okay," Johnny said easily. "Okay."**

 **Things gotta get better, I figured. They couldn't get worse. I was wrong.**

Even though the boys in Ponyboy's gang knew what happened after, they still felt the heavy weight of dread settle in their stomachs.


End file.
